Lessons from the Other Cross

On Easter, especially, we take time to reflect on the cross where Jesus died.  As I lay in a hospital bed last month, weeping in despair, I realized the lesson I needed to learn was actually from the other cross.

In Luke 23:40-43 we read, "But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.'  Jesus answered him, 'Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.'”

It is a safe assumption that the two thieves in the Easter story were just that, thieves. One admitted as much. And although the “good thief" asked Jesus to remember him in his kingdom, it struck me that he didn't ask for Jesus to save him from his cross. No last minute appeal from death row,  just a cry for mercy. And it is mercy that Jesus granted him. Of course Jesus could have saved the thief from his earthly consequences.  Instead he promised eternal salvation.

So often I find myself on a cross my own making. I battle the sins that plague my human nature and lose more times than I win. The result of my sin frequently leads to deep suffering and sorrow,  feeling abandoned by God, hopeless, and ultimately in despair. It is at exactly this time that I must remember that while Jesus sometimes saves me from myself, there are consequences for my actions here on earth. That doesn't mean God has abandoned me, but instead that He loves me so much more. Instead of a quick fix to my temporal problems, He offers me eternal redemption.

This Easter, take a moment to focus not just on Christ's resurrection, but on the thief who rose with him to glory. Both died that day, but Christ's death overcame sin once for all. And in the end, that is the better story.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:  Earthly circumstances are small relative to the enormity of our salvation through Christ.


PRAYER: Heavenly Father, you love me with a love that is difficult for me to comprehend. A love that doesn’t remove me from my circumstances, but instead loves me regardless of my circumstances. Help me truly understand that the gift of your Son is better than sanctuary from any earthly pain, sorrow, or even discipline. When I struggle, help me remember the best part of the story, that someday I will be with you in paradise. Amen.

(Photo credit: fiftypercentchanceofrain)

Waiting to Be Still

My three year old has decided to give up naps.  To some of you, this may not seem like a big deal.  To those of us work from home parents, you realize that naps are like the Ark of the Covenant.  They are rare, precious, and contain in them all of the makings for a peaceful world with direction, forgiveness and patience.  You also know that to lose this precious artifact is akin to losing your best friend.  

So I was not going down without a fight.  Unfortunately, neither was he. 

My compromise was to let him nap in my bed with me.  He got to lie down. I got to lie down.  Win-win.  Well, no laundry got done, but I still call it a win.

You know those mattress commercials where one person is jumping on the bed and the glass of wine doesn't spill?  Have you ever noticed they don't use children in those commercials, and it isn't just because a toddler in bed with a glass of wine is kind of inappropriate.  It is because no matter how little the child, when they move in bed, you are going to feel it.  Every fidget, kick, roll, taking off their socks, putting their hands over their eyes, their ears, your eyes, your ears. You feel it all. 

This is the case for our recent nap times.  The number of times I've uttered the words "Be still," must be somewhere in the thousands. When I'm really serious, I gently place my hand on his chest and whisper softly in his ear, because for some reason my kids know if I'm whispering, I'm not messing around.

Turns out, I'm way more like my three year old than I desire to admit. For years Psalms 46:10 has been my favorite verse.  ""Be still, and know that I am God;"  Unfortunately, knowing a verse and applying the verse are two very different things.  

I was recently in the hospital for several days.  By day two I was feeling physically better and was more than ready to go home.  The doctors didn't share my enthusiasm.  They told me it would be at least two more days before I could be discharged.  

I'm not a huge fan of hospitals to begin with, but when you are feeling good they start to seem more like a prison.  A prison where nobody wants you to sleep.  Every two hours, all day and all night, someone is coming in your room to check something, administer something, or just to wake you up and make sure you are still breathing. For a gal who has trouble sleeping in the best of circumstances, sleeping in a hospital was impossible. So I moved the bed up and down, fluffed up pillows, flattened pillows, paced around the room, listened to music, watched re-runs of Seinfeld (it is on at 2 a.m. in case you are looking for it).  My patience waned and my frustration increased.  

Finally, on night three as I once more lamented the fact I was still trapped, it was as if I literally felt God gently put His hand on my chest and say, "Kristen, it is time to be still."  

I still didn't want to be in the hospital, the bed was still uncomfortable, and the nurses still woke me up every time I drifted off.  But something changed.  My heart softened and I felt at peace. Given how I feel about hospitals, finding peace inside one is sort of like my three year old volunteering to nap.  It doesn't happen. 

Or rather, it doesn't happen without God.

I don't know what you is making your restless today. Maybe it is health challenges, marital strife, or your three year old giving up nap, but it is a safe bet that if you aren't facing a storm right now you either just emerged from one or are on your way to one. I want to encourage you not just to read the verse, but to claim it as a promise. God is God. He is bigger, stronger, and smarter that you are.  He feels ever toss, turn, kick, and fidget you make and He is right there next to you with his hand on your chest whispering, "Be still."

Because we all need a rest sometimes.